A single red poppy
by I'mEnglish'CourseIDrinkTea
Summary: Lestrade and Sherlock bond after Lestrade finds out about Sherlock's husband in Afghanistan. Johnlock John/Sherlock and probably Mystrade Mycroft/Lestrade in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**So I am kinda obsessed with the Sherlock and John know each other whilst John's still an active soldier fic's. I always love reaction based stories, so I thought i'd have a crack at it.**

**I originally toyed with this idea around remembrance day, hence the mention of the poppy, all of my respect goes to soldiers past, present and future. **

**This is John/Sherlock and will probably have elements of Mycroft/Lestrade in later chapters if you don't like that, well honestly i don't really care, it is what it is.**

**I write erratically so i'll just apologize for not updating now. As always i am English and as such it should be understood i have no idea how to spell, punctuate or use grammar within the English language. Feel free to tell me where i've gone wrong when i inevitably do.**

**Disclaimer****- I own one thing and that's the bottle of Lucozade i drank whilst writing this, and i'm afraid that's almost all gone now :(**

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Lestrade glanced up as his consulting detective swept onto the scene. Frowning slightly, Lestrade took a closer look after he glimpsed a flash of red against the man's normal black attire. "Sherlock, are you wearing a poppy?" he asked curiously. Several months working with the man and this was the first remotely personal thing he has seen breach the detective's distant character.

Breaking out of his assessment of the scene, the consultant glanced down at the plastic flower. "Yes, what of it?"

"Nothing, I just didn't peg you as the sort to-"

"Oh, come off it," his newest forensics officer sneered. "Of course he isn't the type. I bet his mummy told him he has to wear it, so she looks good in front of the neighbours."

Remaining unusually calm in the face of such insults, too calm Lestrade thought, Sherlock turned to the man. "Not that it is any concern of yours Anderson, but my mother has no control over how I choose to dress. I wear a poppy for the same reason as anyone else; in respect of those who have, and will fight in wars past, present and future, and to support them and their families as they do so."

"Like you care about the men that are getting killed right now, the only bodies that concern you are the 'interesting' ones that turn up murdered in our streets. What respect do you have for some blokes getting themselves blown up in some far off forgotten country?" The man sneered.

Sherlock sucked in a quick breath as his face flashed with a brief expression of pain, and something that looked a lot like fear. Before Lestrade could compute this unprecedented display of emotion, his consultant had already collected himself, turned on his heel and left the scene.

After severely reprimanding Anderson on his behaviour Lestrade mimicked his consultants exit. Feeling guilty for abandoning his duties at the scene, Lestrade headed for Baker Street, trusting his officers to wrap up in his place. Anderson's words had been crushing after all, and judging by Sherlock's abrupt departure they had had some effect on the man.

Climbing the stairs to 221b, Lestrade walked through the door to be confronted by the morose picture that Sherlock Holmes was currently presenting. The man was led on his sofa curled around, and crying into, what appeared to be a beige knitted jumper. Cursing Anderson in his head, Lestrade was suddenly fiercely happy about the glares he had seen directed the other man's way before he had left the scene. Sherlock may not be well liked by the officers of the yard, but some of them had served and most at least knew someone who had, Anderson's attempts to demean Sherlock through the poppy will no doubt have lasting consequences for the man.

Walking into the room, Lestrade came to kneel in front of the couch besides the detectives head. "Sherlock?" he questioned softly, "Something you want to tell me?" he asked, gesturing to the jumper the man was currently clinging too.

Lestrade watched as the detective registered his presence and shot up, wiping away his tears with one hand, keeping the other firmly latched on the jumper in his lap. Moving to sit beside the man, Lestrade inwardly sighed, unconsciously raising his hands to placate the man.

"Sherlock whatever this is, it's okay. I won't hold it against you and I won't tell anyone if you don't want me too. Anderson has been firmly reprimanded; I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Obviously you are not; you don't have to tell me anything but I would like it if you did." Lestrade spoke calmly, in his own gentle but gruff manner.

Remaining still under the detectives gaze, Lestrade waited patiently as Sherlock weighed up the truth of his statement. Eventually, Sherlock sighed and nodded reaching into his shirt to remove the chain he wore there. A chain that the di now realised carried a set of dog tags and a wedding ring.

Looking at his consult in curiosity, he watched as Sherlock reverently ran a finger over the tags before removing them and passing them to the di. Taking the tags, that were worn enough to signify years of daily use, Lestrade read the name upon them. "Lieutenant John Watson," he read curiously.

Gaining eye contact, the inspector questioned the man "who is he?"

At this Sherlock grinned, causing the inspector to blink in surprise. "Captain John Watson-Holmes is my husband. He is currently on his third tour of Afghanistan, attached to the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers as a combat surgeon of the ramc."

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**Quick question should ramc be capitalized or?**


	2. Chapter 2

**So i really shouldn't be uploading another chapter so fast, this can only end in a stressed writer and disappointed readers but i got so many reviews and so many follows for such a short bit of writing that i couldn't resist. Thankyou so much guys. **

**Oh and thank's to those of you much more knowledgeable than I it'll be RAMC from here on out. Thankyou for answering, i knew it should have been capitalized :)**

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_Gaining eye contact, the inspector questioned the man "who is he?"_

_At this Sherlock grinned, causing the inspector to blink in surprise. "Captain John Watson-Holmes is my husband. He is currently on his third tour of Afghanistan, attached to the 5__th__ Northumberland Fusiliers as a combat surgeon of the RAMC."_

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Lestrade stared agape at the man "Husband? You're married?" He blurted.

Seemingly amused at his reaction, Sherlock smirked as he spoke dryly "Technically I'm in a civil partnership."

"Right," Lestrade said blankly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sherlock looked down at his lap, in what Lestrade guessed to be embarrassment. "I enjoy the work, before I met John it was everything. Now when I take a case without him, it's surprisingly empty. Whenever I think of him when I am working, I am just reminded of the fact that he is not here, and that is not conductive to brain work."

"He really means a lot, huh." Lestrade stated in awe at this new side of his consultant.

"Of course, I did marry him after all." Sherlock spoke without missing a beat.

Blinking rapidly still trying to get used to that revelation Lestrade lent back into the sofa. "So," he said "You going to tell me about him or what? What's he like?"

Glancing up at the di uncertainly, Sherlock tentatively let a soft smile overtake his features before leaning back like Lestrade. "He's one of the most boring and mundane people I have ever met, and yet he's the most extra-ordinary person I know. He never acts as I think he will; unless I need him to be dependable then I'll know exactly where he is." Scowling slightly he continued. "He has in the past recklessly risked his life for mine, and countless others, although I constantly tell him not too. In return he feels the need to spend an inordinate amount of time lecturing me on my eating and sleeping habits."

Lestrade chuckled at that "More the power to him, god knows you could do with a proper meal once in a while." Watching his consultant, he couldn't help but smile in response to the soft smile still adorning the other man's face. The di hoped he would continue, liking this side of the normally aloof man.

"He-" Sherlock broke off as his mobile began to ring. Rolling his eyes he reached for the phone obviously believing it to be unimportant. However upon seeing the caller id he hurriedly accepted the call, nearly hitting his face in his eagerness to get the phone to his ear.

"John" He immediately stated, listening to the voice at the other end of the phone. Lestrade smiled at the relief and happiness in his consultant's voice, he moved to leaver himself from the sofa figuring he should give the man some privacy.

Seeing his actions Sherlock halted him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "John hold on a second." He said into the phone, before he moved it in front of his pressing a button on its screen. "John you're on speakerphone, there's someone here you should meet. Detective Inspector Lestrade, Captain John Watson-Holmes, John, Lestrade." He introduced them.

Turning to his consultant in surprise Lestrade nearly missed it as a fuzzy voice came through the phone. "Detective inspector Lestrade," it greeted calmly. "I've wanted to meet you ever since Sherlock declared you acceptable in one of his letters to me. Given the fact Sherlock's introducing us; I can only imagine you know how surprised that made me."

Chuckling Lestrade turned to the phone. "I must admit I never even knew you existed until about thirty minutes ago. The smile on Sherlock's face has got me curious though." He admitted "Oh, and thank you Captain."

"You can call me John," the voice assured quickly. "Um, what are you thanking me for Detective inspector?"

"Greg," Lestrade corrected and in lieu of an answer he turned to Sherlock. "Acceptable," he said gleefully. "Where are your bumbling idiot comments now, huh?" he said with a laugh, vaguely noticing as a giggle joined his over the phone.

"John!" The detective chided as his face formed a pout. "Why would you tell him that? His ego is going to be insurmountable."

At this John only began to laugh harder "his ego? Pot meet kettle Sherlock. That seems very unlikely to me anyway, seeing as he manages to tolerate you on a day to day basis, love." The man chuckled again "don't forget I was there when you tried to work with Professor Clevton."

Quirking his lips at some remembered event, Sherlock inclined his head unconsciously. "Ok, fine Lestrade's ego is at an acceptable size," he admitted. "That's why we are not allowed to inflate it any further John!"

"Oh, of course my mistake," John said sarcastically.

"John, why are you calling?" Sherlock asked worriedly after the laughter had died down. "Your next call slot is not scheduled until next week. Has something happened?" he asked obviously concerned.

"Nothing," John was quick to reassure. "I was just relaxing on base when some suits walked up with a phone, and told me that Mr Holmes insists I make a call. I'm going to go out on a limb and say Mycroft is involved somehow. Speaking of, are you alright? I assume something must have happened for him to do this."

Glancing up at Lestrade Sherlock cocked his head consideringly, before unconsciously nodding. "There was a blithering idiot who said some things. Lestrade helped, I'm fine." Sherlock replied, missing Lestrade's look of surprise even as it morphed into a pleased expression.

"If you're sure, the men are coming back, I think someone has decided this conversation is over. I'll call next week as planned, ok? It was a pleasure to meet-" The man paused "Er, speak to you Inspector Lestrade."

"Same, Captain Watson," Lestrade responded.

"Goodbye for now then, I love you Sherlock." The man spoke softly.

"And I you John," Sherlock replied solemnly.

"You posh git," John muttered affectionately before hanging up.

"So that was John," Lestrade broke the silence that followed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the di, "obviously."


	3. Chapter 3

******I don't know how to thank you guys my email has literally exploded with the amount of reviews and favorites i have gotten since i posted my first fic on here two weeks ago. Thank you all so much, i'm glad you seem to be enjoying what i write.**

**I confess to being a little unsure of this chapter. I tried to make sure Sherlock wasn't too mushy and that the repetitive story telling feature wasn't too boring but i'm not sure i succeeded. However i needed a way to explain John and Sherlock's history and this is what came of it. **

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"_So that was John," Lestrade broke the silence that followed._

_Sherlock rolled his eyes at the di, "Obviously."_

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Lestrade didn't move looking at Sherlock hoping for more information.

"What?" The man asked irritably.

"Oh come on Sherlock! You haven't told me hardly anything about the man. How you met, how long you've been married. Come on I'm a detective you can't leave it like this, you know the pain!" Lestrade pleaded humorously, intrigued to see how this Sherlock would react.

Rolling his eyes at the di, Sherlock responded "fine, but you have to make me a cup of tea first."

"You're fortunate you have me so intrigued Sherlock!" He growled as he moved to the kitchen to get the man's bloody tea.

Settled back into his normal armchair, tea in hand, Lestrade waited for Sherlock to get himself situated on the couch. Once he had, Lestrade threw the man a questioning look with perhaps the smallest fraction of pleading thrown in.

Sighing Sherlock observed the man over his tea cup. "We'll start with the last of your questions and work our way back I think. John and I have been married for almost four years, we were married at the end of John's first sixth month tour. We met about six years before that, when John was in his last year of pre-med at UCL and I had just started for my chemistry bachelors."

Sherlock sipped his tea leaning back into the couch. "I had discovered that one of the professors had been stealing various substances from the chemistry cupboards to supply his meth lab. When I went to confront him he threw acid at me. Not too high a concentration considering, but enough so that I noticed. Inside of ten seconds John had subdued the professor and began treating my chemical burns. The rest of the class didn't even have time to gasp, and there he was quietly looking me over the professor tied to a chair behind him."

"He introduced himself, thanked me for finding out who the thief was, for it had been 'bothering him for weeks', and told me that I should probably go to A&E for a quick check-up. Naturally I refused, so he nodded looked me over and said 'well come on then' and took me to his place. He barely even paused to inform the officers that we'd come down to give our statements tomorrow, since I was so 'obviously in need of medical assistance'. The constable was not happy." He recalled chuckling.

Lestrade winced on the constable's behalf, engrossed in the story as the detective seemed to come alive remembering it.

"When we got to his, which was a truly horrid little place below the standards of even the worst student dorms, he cleaned me up silently only asking me the necessary medical questions. When he was finished he gave me a cup of tea and asked me how I knew. I explained my deductions to him and he groaned, in what I later discovered was a playful manner and said that I had 'the kind of intelligence that made smart people despair at their own'. I'd never been teased before, at least not in a friendly way, so naturally I responded the only way I knew how." He trailed off.

"You deduced him," Lestrade stated wincing.

Sherlock nodded in agreement "and then he did something that was completely unprecedented."

"What?" Lestrade asked, with an inkling as to where this was going.

"He told me that I was extraordinary, 'quite extraordinary in fact'," Sherlock quoted a bright blush staining his cheeks. "I had just confronted him with some horrible things and that was all he said. Naturally I was confused, he asked me why and I told him that's not what people normally say. When he asked what they normally say and I replied piss off, he just looked up at me. His face broke into a smile and he started laughing, and what's more I was laughing as well Lestrade. An event that was almost as unprecedented as the first." Lestrade full out grinned at the detective now, the awe and confusion in his voice clearly audible, even if this piece of news made the inspector sad.

"After that he kept coming back, he even helped me on cases with the medical knowledge he was gaining, he became my backup when it was needed. I was happy working with him, but I still didn't understand why he was so nice to me. Until one day I fell ill and Mycroft tried to take me away to some private hospital to get treated. John vehemently disagreed, assuring my brother that he could take care of me as per my wishes. Mycroft asked him why he would even want to and he replied 'because he's my friend you great git, haven't your surveillance teams told you that much? I think they're slipping." Sherlock quoted.

"I thought I had hallucinated it at first, no one had ever wanted to be my friend before," he admitted. "It only got better though, Mycroft offered him money to spy on me, something he had apparently attempted before, and John refused. Mycroft was stood there parroting all of his money troubles at him, and he refused. As soon as I was better I naturally called him an idiot and told him we could have split the fee. Then I told him that we were going to look for a flat together, once he had left the student dorms, when he transferred to Barts to complete his training."

"You told him? Of course it didn't occur to you to ask nicely." Lestrade groaned in exasperation.

With a grin Sherlock shook his head. "He told me that if I could find us a place to live, that we actually had a hope in hell of affording, he'd happily move in with me. My homeless network, which was active even then, spread the word for me hoping to find us suitable accommodation. Word reached the previous renters of this flat. They got into contact with me and informed us that they intended to move. They hadn't been able to yet because the landlords were in a spot of trouble in Florida, the husband had been arrested and placed on death row for murder. We reached out to the landlady and she was happy to fly us out to take a look at her husband's case. When we got there we found out that she was hoping we could prove her husband's guilt during his appeal not his innocence. Nine years later and Mrs Hudson is enjoying her life as a widow."

Lestrade blinked in surprise at that revelation. Although now that he thought about it the story behind that incident, whatever it may be, probably explained some of the landlady's odd behaviour, not to mention her willingness to put up with Sherlock as a tenant.

"We barely paid a quarter of the normal rent for this place and Mrs Hudson kept us here anyway," Sherlock said fondly. "Eventually, I started to supplement our income with fees from private cases. A couple of months later, I was still training for my bachelors despite how boring it was, John was becoming a doctor and we began dating. After that-" he began to move on.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Lestrade cut in, holding up his hands to stop the detective. "Details Sherlock, who asked out who or who kissed who? What happened?" Lestrade frowned as a thought occurred to him, "unless it's highly sexual in which case you're right skip ahead please."

Sherlock rolled his eyes looking to the ceiling as he thought back, "I kissed him if you must know. We had just cracked the Coventry cleaver case and I was excited, may have let myself get carried away a bit."

"What did he say to that?" Lestrade questioned before, "Wait you cracked that case?"

"John and I did yes," Sherlock waved away the question irritably. "John didn't say anything he just smiled and asked if we could go back to the hotel because he was 'bloody freezing'. Once my brain caught up with my body I felt like a complete idiot. I had only ever seen him with women and he was my best and only friend. I shut myself down for a couple of months after that, lost myself in my own brain as John likes to say. He looked after me until the day I remember taking a conscious interest in my surrounding again. I was sat in the kitchen and he walked through, said 'Oh good you're back' kissed me, handed me a cup of tea and wandered out again."

"From then on we had a lot of fun, sex and cases, and then he had to go on training for the army. We were separated for the first time in over four years. In the time he was away, I realised that the work was not as fulfilling as it once was, that it didn't feel right without John at my side. So during a break in his training I asked him to marry me. He agreed, and between them my mother and Mycroft spent so much time planning, it took us a year to finally sign the stupid piece of paper. We were finally married on a date somewhere between his first tour and his second," his lips quirked into a smile at the memory.

Stupid piece of paper my ass, Lestrade inwardly chuckled, he was the one to propose after all. Tentatively Lestrade asked a question that had been weighing on his mind since he learned of John. "Sherlock, if you were so happy and he was a qualified doctor, why did he join the army?"

At this Sherlock frowned unhappily. "He'd already joined long before I met him. All he ever wanted to do was become a doctor and the army agreed to pay his way to it. He signed up when he was eighteen and fresh out of sixth form. The army trained him and in return they get six years of his life, at the end of which he can retire if he wishes," he trailed of morosely.

Taking in his new expression Lestrade frowned, "You don't think he's going to retire."

Sherlock sighed and sunk back into the couch. "He loves it, truly loves it, like me and the work. He was born to be a doctor and he is exactly the person I'd want to have backing me up in a dangerous situation. I don't want to stop him from doing what he loves but-" he broke of and bit his lip.

"It's hard," Lestrade supplied helpfully.

"It wouldn't be so much of an issue if he spent his time working as a base surgeon. Naturally he works as a field surgeon instead, and I live with the knowledge that any day he could be-" Sherlock broke off again, his voice becoming suspiciously raspy.

"He works in the field?" Lestrade asked surprised, "I thought fully fledged doctors pretty much always stayed on base."

Sherlock snorted. "A few, very few, choose to work in the field with a squad, in order to offer as much help as they can with both combat injuries and the health of the locals. There are so very few of them that he gets sent out on special assignment on a fairly regular basis. He says that his patients are ten times more likely to survive just because he knows how to apply a bandage correctly. That doesn't make the news stories any easier to watch though."

"No I imagine not," Lestrade said softly. "How long has he got left?"

"He's halfway through a tour right now, then he's scheduled to have three weeks of leave, followed by a final sixth month tour. After that he can leave if he wishes," Sherlock replied slightly wistfully.

"We'll see Sherlock, we don't know what'll happen and I obviously don't know John well enough to make a judgment. For now I think you and I need a good meal and a couple of hour's sleep, before we tackle that case tomorrow." Lestrade carefully ended the conversation.

Despite what some of his co-workers said, Lestrade had always known Sherlock had feelings and was subject to sentiment like the rest of the world. He had never anticipated the day where he would see either so blatantly displayed though. Now that that day had come, it occurred to Lestrade that Sherlock had trusted him with a lot here today. Smiling, Lestrade fully relaxed into the sofa as he registered the warm feeling that thought gave him; before he called for some takeaway to share with the man who he was hoping was beginning to consider him a friend.

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**I readily admit that i have no idea how long it takes to study for a medical license, or how you go about studying for them, i just needed a way for Sherlock and John to meet so i went with the pre-med course idea. I also know next to nothing about the army so any mistakes with the details for either of these professions are all due to the fact i have just literally made it all up off of the top of my head. **


	4. Chapter 4

**So after the last chapter i wanted to get back into more solid ground and bring back the snarky Sherlock we all know and love ... yeah **

**Apparently i've just given up on that so mushy Sherlock it is.**

**Lastly i'm afraid my laptop is on its last legs, its actually a miracle every time i manage to boot it up. So from here updates may be a bit slow until i can buy a new one and as i'm broke that probably won't be for a while. I want to individually reply to each of your reviews but i can't trust my laptop to keep running that long, so for now thankyou all so much and for those of you that have been asking/wondering i'm planning to bring John back soon :)**

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Frowning at the paperwork before him Lestrade yawned, tempted to go home but knowing he'd only suffer tomorrow if he did. Considering the pros and cons of getting another cup of coffee this late at night, he didn't notice the figure standing at his office door.

Eventually the sound of awkward shuffling drew his attention to the man that stood there. "Sherlock?" he asked frowning in concern, having never seen the man so unsure of himself "is everything alright?"

"Yes I-" Sherlock awkwardly began, making an aborted attempt to enter the room. "I-" he stuttered, before his mouth clamped shut and he span on his heel, obviously intending to exit the room.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade quickly called out, stalling the man's retreat. "Come here," when Sherlock made no move to obey Lestrade sighed. "Please," he added running a hand through his hair. Sherlock lurched on his heels for a second as if changing his mind, before turning to face Lestrade and crossing the distance to the man's desk.

Raising an eyebrow, Lestrade waved his hand at the seats in front of him. Eying both him and the seats dubiously, Sherlock eventually allowed himself to sink into one.

"Okay, good, now can you please tell me what's wrong?" Lestrade asked softly.

Opening his mouth, Sherlock gaped like a fish for a second before he slumped back into the chair behind him. "John and I were married on the 20th of February" he confessed softly.

"The 20th of February," Lestrade repeated equally as softly, pausing to work out the date in his head. "Today?" he questioned.

"Four years ago today," Sherlock confirmed, "happy anniversary to me," he said bitterly.

"Right," Lestrade said, jumping up to put on his coat. "Come on," he said moving to the door.

Sherlock stood to follow automatically "where are we going?" he asked.

"Haven't the foggiest mate, but we'll find some food and talk about John ok?" Lestrade asked, already knowing the consultant would back track, despite the fact that talking was exactly what he wanted.

Sherlock froze "but I don't-"

Lestrade rolled his eyes cutting the man off, "Sherlock, you've come here on your anniversary, clearly uncomfortable about something. I may not be up to your standards but give me some credit; I'm a DI for Christ's sake. Now seeing as I'm bloody starving, we're going to fulfil both my desire to get out of here, and your desire to talk all at once. Let's go," he said ushering the man out, not giving him a chance to talk his way out of it.

Twenty minutes later Lestrade had a bag of chips cradled in his arms, trying to protect them as Sherlock periodically reached over to knick some. Lestrade looked the detective over carefully as he did so; it had been over a month since their last conversation about John. Lestrade had had trouble to reconcile the man he had met then with the aloof man he had known before, and seen since.

Sensing it would be best to wait for his consultant to broach the subject again, Lestrade hung back letting the other man lead him as they wondered around London.

"We haven't actually had a chance to celebrate an anniversary together yet, at least not on the actual date of our ceremony. Mycroft has offered to pull strings for us in the past but-" Sherlock murmured randomly, seemingly not wanting or expecting a response.

Turning off the path Sherlock headed into a small park, making a beeline for the deserted playground within it. Trailing behind the man, Lestrade took a seat on one of the swings, watching as Sherlock took the other and tilted his head back to look at the stars above them; the few stars visible over London at any rate. "Is it too much to want to see your husband on your anniversary Lestrade?" The man asked quietly.

Not sure what to say Lestrade opted to stay quiet. Eventually, Sherlock looked away from the sky and turned to Lestrade with a small smile on his face. "This park," he motioned to their surroundings, "most specifically these swings are where John and I ended up at the end of our first date."

Lestrade's brow furrowed as he cocked his head to the side, "how come?"

Sherlock closed his eyes the small smile becoming wider as he remembered. "John had taken me to see an exhibit on 'crime and punishment through time'. Whilst we were there we saw several leaflets promoting a modern arts exhibit, specifically a piece that featured a swing."

Sherlock planted his feet and pushed, so his swing was moving a little, his smile becoming deeper as he chuckled softly. "John hated it. He spent ages lamenting about how much more use the swing could have been for some kid to play on, rather than something for idiots with too much time on their hands to gawp at."

"I couldn't get him to shut up about them, at least not until I told him that I couldn't actually remember ever being on one. I barely had time to register the look of disbelief on his face, before he had pulled me out of the exhibit; frog marched me to this park and bullied me onto this swing." Sherlock shook his head in an oddly fond manner at odds with his usual façade.

"It was the middle of winter at the time, this place was deserted. We ended up spending hours here. John teaching me the 'optimal technique for swinging'" Sherlock said shaking his head in that weirdly fond manner again. "I also recall spending an inordinate amount of time taking turns on the slide. It was ridiculous." He said clearly bemused by the events even now.

"It sounds like a laugh," Lestrade offered grinning at the man.

"It's one of my happiest memories," Sherlock agreed, "and later this park became the backdrop to the memory that has become my favourite."

Lestrade leaned back to look at the detective in surprise, what could possibly make the detective happier than what he had just described?

Seeing the DI's expression, Sherlock grinned smugly. "The other memory is my favourite, Lestrade, because this is where I asked John to marry me."

Lestrade sucked in a shocked breath and turned his head to take in his surroundings again. Listening to Sherlock's story he had already been surprised at the significance of the place Sherlock had chosen to bring him, but the place the man had proposed on top of that, Lestrade was beginning to feel quite touched by the man's trust in him. Lestrade shook his head in disbelief before he let out a low whistle. "You managed to find a place that was significant, not an overpriced restaurant that means nothing to either of you. For a man who routinely scoffs at sentiment that was remarkably well planned Sherlock."

At this Sherlock blushed and refused to meet the inspectors gaze. "Ah, yes, not so much actually. Mycroft recommended the five star restaurant route, but when we actually got around to sitting in one I was too nervous to actually propose. We decided to walk home after dinner though, and somehow we ended up here, then it just sort of happened."

Laughing outright at this confession, Lestrade grinned. "Yeah, ok, that sounds more like it."

Sherlock offered a small smile in return before he halted his swing. Looking out at the park fondly, he reached up a hand to wrap securely around the chain, before beginning to swing in earnest. Watching as the detective began to gain more height; Lestrade shrugged and lobbed the rest of his chips into the nearby bin. Mimicking the other man's actions Lestrade gripped his swings chain before joining Sherlock in the air.


	5. Chapter 5

**So i was right, i havent been able to get my laptop to work since the last time i updated. I had to do this in the library, so im afraid i have no idea when this will be updated regularily again.**

**Thankyou so much for all of your kind reviews, faviroutes and follows - this story almost has 100 followers now which is mind blowing to me.**

**I'm sorry if there are a lot of mistakes in this chapter, but the library computers have time limits so i wasn't really able to look it over as much as i usually would have. Feel free to point out any mistakes and i'll try to correct them when i finally replace my laptop.**

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Lestrade watched as Sherlock glanced up at the clock for the tenth time in the last five minutes. Since the other mans anniversary and their time spent together in the park, Lestrade had made it a point to get to know his consultant a little better. They may not be the best of friends but Sherlock no longer expected Lestrade to have a case whenever he turned up on his doorstep. On one occasion the consultant had actually pre-cleared a space for the food Lestrade never failed to bring with him. Communication between them was still stilted, but they had managed to get to the stage where their shared silences were companionable, rather than awkward as they had previously been.

This was part of what led to Lestrade being so worried at the odd behaviour Sherlock had been exhibiting all afternoon. Dimmock had passed over a case that he thought was related to one of Lestrade's pre-existing ones. Looking them over Lestrade had had no choice but to agree, confirming Sherlock's original assessment of the crime.

When Lestrade had gone to get Sherlock, the man had been jubilant; both at having his deductions confirmed and at the challenge the murders now presented. However, as the day had progressed Sherlock had become more and more agitated. For the past hour, as they sat looking for links in old case files together, Sherlock had begun fidgeting in his seat and glancing up at the clock at increasing intervals.

Lestrade was about to ask what was wrong when he was interrupted by the man in question jumping to his feet.

"I need to go!" Sherlock declared to the room, putting on his coat as he turned to leave.

Frowning up at the man Lestrade questioned him suspiciously, "Go where?"

Sherlock turned back to the DI, and for a moment Lestrade thought Sherlock was going to answer him truthfully. Then he saw how the Detectives eyes flickered over the other officers in the room. "That is none of your concern," the consultant sneered instead.

"Sherlock! If you are about to do something stupid it is my concern. Do you think I'm going to let you go after that guy alone?" Lestrade shouted angrily, his concern for the other man mounting.

"Oh for- I'm not going after him Lestrade." Seeing the disbelieving look this garnered him Sherlock groaned. "Fine! Come with me if you must, but I have to go. Now!" he snapped as he swept from the room.

Blinking in surprise, Lestrade grabbed his coat before following his consultant out of the Yard and into the back of a cab.

"Okay," Lestrade said cutting himself off, as Sherlock gave the cabbie a destination quietly enough that the DI didn't hear where they were going. "So if you're not going after the murderer what are you doing? Because mate you've been acting like a cat on a hot tin roof all day." He stated, pointedly watching as Sherlock shuffled around in his seat, seemingly unable to keep still.

Sherlock sighed, "Work it out Lestrade, there are only two things capable of producing this type of reaction from me."

"The work," Lestrade stated slowly, as if expecting a trap.

"Yes and," Sherlock cut in impatiently.

"John Watson." Sherlock turned to the DI clapping his hands sarcastically. Taking this and Sherlock's nervous energy in, Lestrade sat back in his seat, if his years as a cop had taught him anything it was when to push and when to sit back and wait.

Watching the scenery change outside the cab's window, Lestrade frowned as they got closer to the airport.

Lestrade's suspicions were confirmed when the cab pulled up outside of Heathrow. Putting Sherlock's behaviour together he turned to ask the man if they were here to pick up John, only to swear when he realised Sherlock had already left leaving the DI to settle the fair.

Allowing some of his more imaginative curses to flood his mind, Lestrade ran into the airport a couple of minutes after Sherlock and began looking for the man. Unable to locate him near the entrance, Lestrade took an educated guess and headed to arrivals, hoping to find his consultant there.

Finally spying the man, twisting and turning amongst the crowd, Lestrade made his way to him. "Sherlock? Sherlock?" He half shouted, trying to gain the man's attention.

Sherlock only reached out a hand to try and bat the Inspector away as he continued to search the crowd. "We missed it Lestrade, his plane landed over fifteen minutes ago, but where would he go? Why wouldn't he just wait for me?" Sherlock began muttering to himself.

"In my defence," a voice interrupted from behind them. "I thought you were going to be much later than fifteen minutes. As for where I went, we've known each other for at least nine years, can't you figure it out O'master of deduction," the voice teased.

Both Lestrade and Sherlock had frozen as the voice began speaking, allowing Lestrade to see the exact moment his Consultant moved again. The man whirled around to face the short blonde behind them. Covering the distance between them quickly Sherlock enveloped the other man in his arms. "John," he said softly, voice filled with relief.

Even after the talks they had shared, Lestrade looked away uncomfortable as Sherlock pulled back to look the other man in the eye. Seeing Sherlock display emotion was one thing, but Sherlock being intimate was surprisingly, intimate. Eventually the soldier broke the contact as he stretched up to give the detective a small kiss. "Hello Sherlock," He greeted softly, face lighting up with an earnest grin.

Sherlock returned the expression with the most open smile Lestrade had ever seen grace the man's face. Bending down the detective picked up the other man's duffle bag, rolling his eyes when he saw the Styrofoam cup firmly grasped in the soldier's hand. "Of course," he scoffed, swinging the bag onto his shoulder as he stood. "Where else would John Watson go when he finally returned home but the nearest tea shop?"

The blonde merely grinned up at the man, before turning to Lestrade, who had been hovering uncertainly behind Sherlock's shoulder. "We finally get to meet face to face Detective Inspector" he said with an easy smile, offering his hand to the DI. "Captain John Watson-Holmes, husband of that idiot," he said jerking his thumb in Sherlock's direction.

Responding to the man's easy demeanour and free smiles, Lestrade grinned in return, happily shaking the man's hand. "Captain Watson," he greeted, "You can still call me Greg."

"And you can still call me John. Whenever someone calls me Captain I feel like I should be doing something soldiery, or possibly be getting reprimanded for something un-soldiery." The man said with yet another quick grin.

Glancing at his consultant, Lestrade realised he was watching them both with a horrified look on his face. Exchanging glances with John, who looked resigned rather than confused, Lestrade tilted his head questioningly at the detective. "What was that?" the man asked. "Captain Watson, Oh you can call me John," the man imitated them mockingly. "Didn't we already suffer through this hateful social ritual once?"

John simply rolled his eyes at the man, "It's the overruling English politeness, drilled into most of us since birth Sherlock. Do we really have to have this conversation every time we're introduced to someone?"

"But what purpose does it have?" the consultant whined as he led them to the exit. "You could have just introduced yourselves by your first names since they are clearly what you want to be addressed by, but no. You insist on going through the whole process of tediously whittling down your titles to your actual desired name."

"Says the man who goes through the 'tedious processes' of both titles and check kissing whenever his mother happens to be present, I was there for our engagement party love." John admonished his husband cheerfully.

Sherlock remained silent as they exited the building. Seeing this John turned to Lestrade and raised his hands theatrically into the air "point Watson" he mouthed, causing the Inspector to laugh.

With his supernatural cab powers, Sherlock had already found and got into a cab that was idling next to the curb. John reached the door first but gestured for Lestrade to get in before him as he removed his backpack.

Lestrade held up his hands and backed away a little, "No its okay mate. I 'recon I should leave you two alone; let you get reacquainted an all."

To Lestrade's surprise, John threw his head back and laughed. "As close as you two may be now, I'm betting the reason you're here is that my return has interrupted a case. If I let you go Sherlock and I will get to be reacquainted for a whole three hours. Then, Sherlock will drag me out of the flat at three am to follow one lead or another. It'll be better for all of us to get this case solved tonight, trust me." John spoke fondly, with the confidence of a man who had experienced things like this before.

Caught unawares by this statement, Lestrade hardly noticed as he was ushered into the back of the cab. Lost in his thoughts he missed most of the journey back to Baker Street; how an earth had Sherlock found someone so excepting of his quirks, someone who seemed fond of them even?


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry this update was so long coming. I couldn't help fiddling with it - something which i can't really afford on time-limited computers. If all goes well i should have a laptop again soon, although exam season is coming up so my time is limited. **

**As always thank-you for your follows and the kind requests for more in your reviews.**

**Please point out any mistakes you see, i have no doubt missed a couple at the very least, when i finally get a new laptop I'll eventually get around to fixing them ... probably. **

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_Caught unawares by this statement, Lestrade hardly noticed as he was ushered into the back of the cab. Lost in his thoughts he missed most of the journey back to Baker Street; how an earth had Sherlock found someone so excepting of his quirks, someone who seemed fond of them even? _

* * *

Back in 221B Lestrade watched the soldier smile softly at his home. "I suppose it's too much to hope you have milk or any type of food in the kitchen?" The man asked his husband.

Sherlock's guilty look, and the way he refused to meet the soldiers gaze seemed to be enough of an answer for John. "Right then, I suppose I should go see Mrs Hudson anyway. I'll see if I can beg something off of her whilst I'm there."

After watching the blond descend the staircase, Lestrade turned to Sherlock who had taken the time to sit at one end of the sofa. "I may have known him for all of an hour, but unless he turns out to be an axe murderer I'll admit you've done well for yourself."

Sherlock's only answer was a smug smile as Lestrade moved to sit into what he had come to think of as 'his 221b armchair'. "I'm not sure why that surprises me; you perfect anything you try your hand at after all."

"You must have never seen Sherlock try to knit Greg." John said with a laugh coming back into the room to sit next to his husband. "That was an exercise in frustration, for Mrs H and 'Lock anyway, I found the whole thing hilarious personally."

Sherlock pouted even as he moved his arm around John's shoulder "I thought you went to see Mrs Hudson." He remarked as attempted to surreptitiously pull his partner closer.

"I did but as soon as I told her we had company she chased me back out the door again," he said amused. "I'm not sure whether she's worried to leave you alone with guests, or if she just sensed an excuse to come up here and mother us."

Sherlock snorted, "Both most likely."

Both of the men grinned when they heard the familiar sound of Mrs Hudson ascending the staircase towards them. "Too eee," she announced herself, placing a full tea service on the coffee table before them. "I thought you may like some tea as you work boys." She said with a smile.

"You are a star Mrs Hudson." John grinned, reaching forward to prepare a cup.

Slapping his shoulder playfully, Mrs Hudson giggled "oh John, it's good to have you back dear."

"It's good to be back Mrs H," he replied, handing her the tea he had prepared before making more to pass around the group.

Sitting back Lestrade sipped his tea watching as Mrs Hudson fussed over John and Sherlock, surprised when she threw the occasional comment his way. Looking the two men over, Lestrade couldn't help but feel a bit off balance by how comfortable this all was. Before today he had never really been able to picture Sherlock with anyone. Sherlock cared for John that much had become obvious, but when it came to the aloof man kissing and cuddling, Lestrade just hadn't been able to picture it. Now that John was here, pressed up against the man's side nothing seemed more natural. They were comfortable with each other, to the extent that Lestrade was sure he had never seen Sherlock so relaxed.

Placing his cup back on the tray, Lestrade leaned forward and furrowed his brow. "Not that this isn't-" his gaze flickered over the couple "cosy, but aren't we supposed to be finding a killer, so you two can celebrate your reunion?"

Lazily turning his head towards him Sherlock replied. "To do that, we first need the necessary files to find our link. Until we have them there is little to do but catch up and drink tea." He said looking vaguely disgusted at the thought.

"Oh Sherlock, you can make that face all you like, we all know you're as pleased as punch." Mrs Hudson cooed, standing to ruffle the man's hair.

As she straightened, the room's inhabitants heard the front door open and close as even footsteps began to ascend the staircase. The footsteps quickly revealed themselves to belong to the elder Holmes brother as he knocked on the door with his umbrella.

"Oh, brother dear what an unexpected surprise," Sherlock drawled.

"Sherlock," Mycroft sighed in greeting. "I believe you are waiting on some files," he said, moving aside as several men walked past him to deposit boxes on the desk.

Once the men were done Mycroft inclined his head to the room, "it's good to see you back with us John," he said as he turned to leave.

"Mycroft!" John called out before the man could reach the stairs. "I'm sure you're busy but I'd like a chance to get Sherlock to myself tonight, and despite what he says even Sherlock knows two Holmes' are better than one."

"John!" Sherlock whined. Turning to him John leaned forward to whisper in the man's ear. Sherlock's eyes widened before his face scrunched up in distaste. Huffing the man inclined his head to John, smoothing out his features as he turned to raise an eyebrow at his brother.

Taking their interaction in, Mycroft's gaze lingered on Sherlock's blank but not malicious face, before he nodded his head slightly in assent and moved to take a seat in what Lestrade assumed was John's normal armchair. "I can spare a few hours" Mycroft admitted.

"Good you three get started then. I'm going to go take a quick shower." John said, gently freeing himself from under Sherlock's arm, causing the other man to moan unhappily. "Solve the case love, and then we'll have no distractions." John spoke quietly, dropping a kiss onto Sherlock's forehead before exiting the room.

In the time it took John to shower, the Holmes brother's had found their link and had progressed to mapping out, or as far as Lestrade could tell argue over, possible hideouts for their suspect. A feat that was highly impressive seeing as John took all of ten minutes to shower, especially considering the fact that the DI and Sherlock had been looking for that link all afternoon back at the Yard.

Lestrade had yet to contribute much to the renewed effort, and had found himself distracted by the elder Holmes brother. The man had removed his suit jacket and rolled up the arms of his shirt, sporting a distinctly ruffled look as he ran his hands through his hair, seemingly becoming frustrated as he bickered with his brother. Since his first meeting with Sherlock Lestrade had had a few encounters with his 'archenemy', and he had never seen the man in anything less than a full three piece suit, with every detail of his appearance groomed to perfection. He had never seen the man so relaxed; he'd be willing to bet few people ever had. Coupled with this thought the man's slightly dishevelled appearance was creating a reaction in Lestrade that he had never expected to have for a Holmes.

"He doesn't let many people see this side of him." A voice remarked quietly from his left.

Jumping in surprise, Lestrade glanced over to see that John had returned to the room, doing a double take when he realised the man's fatigues had been replaced with what looked like a home-knitted jumper. In uniform the man had exuded a feeling of authority, not danger exactly but a sense that he knew what he was doing and wasn't afraid to order you to do it. That feeling had been somewhat subdued by the knitwear, Lestrade could still sense it was there, but it had been mellowed out and covered over with a feeling Lestrade associated with safety and security. Processing this Lestrade finally registered that John had spoken to him, "Sherlock?" he questioned confusedly turning to look the man in the face.

With a soft smile John shook his head slightly "Both of them," he said turning his head to watch the brother's work. "I've opened up Sherlock a little but Mycroft still has trouble letting his barriers down for anyone. I've always thought the way past them was through Sherlock though. If you can gain the respect of the youngest Holmes, the eldest can't help but like you, be completely and utterly suspicious of you sure, but like you all the same."

Lestrade just looked at the man blankly, wondering why he was telling him this.

Interpreting his expression correctly John smiled. "I'm telling you this detective inspector because the Holmes brothers don't let many people past their defences. You are one of the few they have. Your reward will be to feel insignificant, unwanted and to constantly wonder if it is all worth it. This is my pre-emptive strike against that thought. They may be utter dickheads sometimes, but they are brilliant," he said jerking his head to indicate the map of London the brothers had pinned to the wall. When Lestrade glanced over he could see the increasing amounts of red, indicating areas of London they had already eliminated as possible hiding spots. "You have to remember that no matter how closed off they seem, they are comfortable showing more sides of themselves to you than almost anyone else in their lives."

Lestrade looked up at the man surprised and oddly touched. John reached forward and patted his shoulder "ok I think that's my poetical side used up for the evening Sherlock will be pleased. If- when it gets too hectic feel free to call me for a pint or send me a letter, yeah. I need all of the allies I can get." John winked as he wandered off to look over the case files with the Holmes'.

Watching Sherlock squeeze John's hand as he began to energetically fill him in on the case, Lestrade felt oddly fond of the genius and his ridiculously accepting soldier husband. He hadn't known the detective for eight months, yet he had come to feel protective of the younger man, it was nice to finally see him in a group that accepted him for who he is.

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**Note to self, when uploading fanfiction in a public library don't get distracted and read a quick fic, you'll only end up in the awkward position of trying to explain what's so funny to the grandmotherly woman sat next to you ... **


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